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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746374">We Are What We Are</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/meta44music/pseuds/meta44music'>meta44music</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>The 100 (TV)</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe - Magic, Angst and Hurt/Comfort, F/F, Fluff and Angst, I Wrote This Instead of Sleeping, M/M, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Succubus Raven Reyes, Vampire Lexa (The 100), Witch Clarke Griffin, more characters will be added later, oops is that a spoiler?</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-06-16</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-06-29</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-04 04:41:04</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Major Character Death</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>8,047</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/24746374</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/meta44music/pseuds/meta44music</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke Griffin, daughter of a prominent Master Mender, focuses on moving forward after a traumatic incident that causes her to abandon the study of magical medicine to pursue a career in the one thing she loves-art.<br/>Lexa, trained from youth to join the ranks of an elite clan of vampires known as the NightBloods, needs to find a hobby for the last month of her human during the ritual customary break(time she has never had to herself before). As one leaves the realm of magic to the mundane, the other begins her life there... What will happen in the gray area where the find themselves as they pass each other by?<br/>OR<br/>The Magic AU where Lexa is a soon to be vamp, Clarke is a retired Mage and accomplished painter and the angst is cranked to [BOOSTED].</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Clarke Griffin/Lexa</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>22</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Stranger</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>I just got back into writing because I love these two together.<br/>Still shaky on the delinquents, so feedback is welcome (but pls be nice ty).<br/>Also the next chapter should have more s u b s t a n c e.</p>
    </blockquote><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>The one with all the set up.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I love worldbuilding, so best believe - things will be explained. Just.... y'know...<em>later</em>.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Clarke orders her usual caffe latte this morning, smiling when Murphy, the barista tacks on a muffin "on the house". </p><p><br/>
"What's this for?" she asks with her eyes crinkling at the edge of a wide tooth grin. </p><p><br/>
"For being my best customer, of course" Murphy smiles back at Clarke and she takes the offering sheepishly.</p><p> <br/>
Clarke settles into her favorite red leather-cushion chair in the corner of the cafe, enjoying the few moments of peace she allows herself before she has over to her art studio a few stores down.Clarke frequented this cafe whenever she needed something warm in her hands and didn't want to stray too far away from to from her studio.She had hoped she'd catch Raven this morning but it was high past time the war-mage would have made her way into the shop.<br/>
Raven was one of the best witches her mother had ever met (Clarke knew this because Abby mentioned the girl often when guilt tripping Clarke into finishing her medic training). Now that Clarke spent most of her time in the shop, she liked to get updates from Raven abut how things are back at Arkadia.</p><p>You could probably imagine Clarke's surprise when a breathtaking stranger - not Raven who she'd been expecting to plop down noisily in the chair- sunk down gracefully into the black recliner across from her. This woman was tan with the type of sun kiss of someone who had spent many days in under the fire of the sun, with long black hair tied back from her face. Clarke tried not to notice her sage green eyes, and studied the magazines closest to her sitting low on the coffee table between them.That's why she didn't see Lexa look her up and down twice, with an approving smirk tugging the corner of her mouth up. Neither of them said anything, but a tension seemed to creep into the air as they cast sideways glances at one other behind their drinks.</p><p>As much as Clarke was enjoying the view, she had to get going (her watch had buzzed for the third time), since her she would be at least 15 minutes late to opening the store front doors at this point. Finally standing to leave, she pretended to tie her tennis shoe on the table so she could get a another long glance at the stranger in front of her, taking as much time to appraise what she could get away with gazing at. With a last glance over her shoulder, Clarke placed her cup in the bin atop the counter and pushed past the glass doors of the cafe and into the morning air. </p>
<h6></h6><p>Her walk to the studio was filled with the brooding green eyes of the stranger at the cafe, and the quiet way that she sipped her tea. <br/>
<em>I should have asked for her number</em> she thought to herself. <em>What if she never comes to the cafe again?</em><br/>
For some reason, she didn't want to forget her and that urged Clarke into motion. Clarke whipped through the store like a hurricane, barely checking the merchandise as she cut to her studio and workshop in the back. She went straight for the charcoals loosely abandoned on the desk around her latest sketchbook, and let her mind indulge in her memories of the women as her hands mindlessly committed the images in her minds eye to paper.<br/>
Clarke knew she was disassociating the moment she felt a dreamy haze settle on her body. This time, she didn't feel the panic that normally followed her when this happened. <em>I have a bit of time before Octavia stops by</em>, she consoles herself. Octavia would come to get the new painting for the bakery, and -being her friend- the girl was familiar with Clarke's "floating" tendencies. She hoped she wasn't manifesting outside of her body this time though.</p><p><br/>
At that thought, she looked down to see herself still sketching. She had gotten a loose form of the stranger seated cross-legged in the seat, her tea held gently away from the newspaper propped in her lap, eyes low and scanning across the pages. Her hands were already onto another though- a bust this time of the woman's eyes, cutting a glance at her with low lidded eyes, an unreadable expression held there, and it gave Clarke an unsettled feeling. As she gazed at this piece in her mind, her body moved on to another sketch, this time-it was something she had not seen. The stranger, with eyes crinkling in a smile-though she couldn't get the mouth placement just right. No-longer on autopilot, she drifted back into awareness.</p><p><br/>
Not a moment too soon either. The jingling bell that signaled the door to her shop had opened rang through the workshop. </p><p><br/>
"Clarke! Am I too early for the painting ?" the familiar voice of Octavia filled her ears. A glanced at her watch told her it was a little after 10am, so she'd been sketching for just over half an hour. </p><p><br/>
"No, you're right on time actually." Clarke called back, picking up the waist high canvas from where it was drying on a rack against the wall. She covered the painting in a dark reflective wrapper, in case Octavia was walking it the 4 blocks back to Blake'd Goods, her bakery.  When she rounded the corner, she was greeted with the open smile of her friend and what she hoped was a plastic container with her favorite treat. "Is that your key lime pie?" She asked waggling her eyebrows in a way she knew would get her friend to laugh. </p><p><br/>
"Yes, of course!" Octavia chucked heartily, grabbing the edge of the canvas frame to help Clarke hike her newest work onto the sale counter. "Wow...Clarke I'm speechless. This looks edible." Octavia's smile fades for a moment as she takes on a more serious tone. "I won't lie. When you offered to make something for the bakery I was a little skeptical. I figured you'd make something that mesmerizes the customers into buying more or something. But this... Clarke this is better than I could have imagine," she said gazing at the painting with a warmth Clarke felt echoing in her chest.</p><p> <br/>
"Yes.. well I figured charming your customers would be bad for PR." Clarke joked back, looking over the painting one more time. She could see a few places where she'd wished shed been able to get the warm brown mix as bright as she wanted, and the shape of the pie could have been a bit more sharply defined, but she did like how the deep greens and dark greys for the background contrasted against the wooden bakery counter. It left the golden crust of the pie and the white text ample color space to draw the eye of the onlooker. </p><p><br/>
"Well. I never thought I'd be paying a witch <em>not to charm</em> my customers." Octavia chuckled once more, covering the painting in the black film. "Thank you again. This is beautiful."</p><p><br/>
"Thank you for commissioning me. This is really going to help me get word out for the shop."</p><p>"You mean besides the Ony-"</p><p>"Yes, outside of that." Clarke cut in, not bothering to stifle her eye roll. "I didn't leave the frying pan to find a new fire." Octavia nodded like she understood. </p><p><br/>
"I don't get it, but Lincoln always defends you when we talk about it." That surprised Clarke- not that she and Lincoln didn't get along, but she couldn't imagine the quiet and solemn man coming to her defense. Or really making any sort of objection outside of staying with Octavia.</p><p><br/>
"How <em>is</em> Lincoln, by the way?"</p><p><br/>
"You know how he is. He's been a pretty handy around the bakery as of late. And he makes a good sparring partner when I can't get to Indra's." she winked with twinkle in her eye that let Clarke know the emotion was genuine.</p><p><br/>
"And you're happy?"</p><p><br/>
"Yes. Hopelessly happy." Octavia replied looking Clarke in the eye so she could see she was being honest. She picked up the painting in both hands, knocking Clarke's arm with her elbow pointedly. "So when are you going to stop worrying about us and join me?"</p><p><br/>
"Join you where?"She knew where this was going, having had this conversation with the girl several times before.</p><p><br/>
"On the happy train. You know, that place you force the rest of us to go but never get to on your own?" Octavia shot back with narrowed eyes as she retreated back to the door, keeping her self perpendicular so she could slide through without damaging her prize. </p><p><br/>
"I'm happy." Clarke retorted with a little too much force, eliciting a frown from Octavia.</p><p><br/>
Octavia shot her a look through the glass as she caught the door with her foot before it closed. "Uh huh. Bellamy and Wells said they'd pop by later with coffee."</p><p><br/>
"Bellamy and Wells? Bellamy Blake and Wells Jaha?" Clarke blinked slowly to ensure she wasn't somehow dreaming.</p><p><br/>
"Yes well," Octavia adjusted her grip on the canvas bag so she could easily wield it with one hand, "Apparently, brokering for you know who brought them together. Not to mention they both hang around Murphy's too much to avoid each other for long."</p><p><br/>
"Shit, I would have sold something sooner if I knew they'd get over themselves." She grinned at her friend as she left with a few parting goodbyes, promising to give Lincoln her hello's.</p><p>The day passes easily with happy thoughts of her friends finally getting along, and of her mystery woman at Murphy's cafe. Bellamy and Wells did in fact pass by, around 4pm to keep her company in the shop until she closed the store for the day. The sun was still high, but showing signs of sagging when the boys tumbled into the shop arguing loudly about coffee choices. </p><p><br/>
"Clarke's been drinking caffe lattes since we were in Theta form." She could easily make out Wells' insisting tone from the counter out front. He wasn't wrong. Back when they were in Theta form (the last level of basic magic studies that children take when they first began to manifest) he and Clarke had stayed up several nights in a row (with the help of her mom's emergency caffeine pills and any actual coffee they could get) to make sure they could impress their teachers on evaluation day. At the time they hadn't quite figured out how much sleep deprivation would mess with their magic. On evaluation day Clarke was so easily distracted that she accidentally set her own evaluation form on fire instead of the starting materials provided. Well ended up giving his examiner nausea instead of feelings of calm when asked to alter the mood in a room. And when they came home with bad marks and many notes of concern from the their teachers demanding an explanation for their mishaps, the two plotting minds had to spill the beans. Neither of them remember who slipped the fact they had dug into Abby Griffin's back up medicine that was reserved for the long nights in the trauma ward, but they both remember the (unprecedented) level of trouble that they got into. That was a nightmare enough.</p><p> <br/>
"Yeah but when Murph' opened up the shop, he made this badass mint tea and that's Clarke's favorite," Bellamy threw back. <em>That's true,</em> Clarke mused quietly as she enjoyed the playful banter between the two. Clarke had met the Blakes after she finished her Om level studies in mending magic (the tract she'd been on with Wells) and switched to Art.That had been her first time in a high level class with people who were not necessarily magic wielders or groomed by magic users. It had felt like a new side of the universe was revealed to her for the first time. Like the world lifting off her shoulders, the burden of having to be good at the magic her mother had mastered. The burden of having to save the ones her mother could not save. <em>The one she could not save- whom had mattered most.</em><br/>
Clarke swallowed down the suffocating feeling that tried to claw up her throat.<br/>
She left those dark thoughts in the workshop as she went to greet her friends.<br/>
<br/>
</p>
<h6></h6><p>Bellamy and Wells weren't exactly friends from where Clarke stood behind the shop counter, but they seemed to truce on th pure enjoyment of proving one another wrong. Which was a sort of? friendship? Maybe.Clarke was happy to entertain the boys banter until it was time to close the shop. The sun warned them of the coming darkness as the shadows morphed colors and danced around the street as it emptied of it's normal traffic. Bye the time Clarke said goodbye to Bellamy and Wells, at her car, the store fronts were nearly quiet or empty.</p><p><br/>
Down the street Murphy's was emptying for the night. His late night stragglers dripping out of the shop like a leaky faucet. A few, then a few more joined them outside and trickling out until there was only one lingering outside the shop. She heard the sound of Murphy cheerfully thanking them for visiting as he locked the door.</p><p>Clarke peeked around the corner of her little alley way parking lot to call out to him "Goodnight Murphy!" she waved a hand past the wall in farewell. </p><p><br/>
"G'night Clarke!" he called back. As Clarke drove away, she couldn't help but feel like someone was watching her. She glanced in the rear view mirror as she turned to head home. The only person around was the last person, a woman who must have just left the cafe. Familiar green eyes flashed under a street light as it flickered to life. The woman she'd seen in the shop earlier was on of the stragglers. Clarke filed that away in her mind and focused on getting home safely to her sanctuary (aka bed).</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Feedback (respectful and constructive) is always welcome.</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. Catch</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>The entirety of this chapter was written to the Coffee talk OST.<br/>We're getting into it. Trying to keep it organic~ Next chapter will be spicier, I promise.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>It seemed that even in her dreams Clarke was not free. </p><p><br/>She awoke with a start, words dying on her lips and blinded by the darkness of her room. There was sweat clinging to her neck and to the dampened sheets she laid in. They were evidence of what had haunted her behind closed eyes, but just like the night before (and every night prior) when she tried to remember she has seen she drew a blank. Only the choked pressure of anxiety and the hammering of her heart in her chest remained as proof.<br/>It was always like this.</p><p>A quick glance at her night stand told Clarke it was just past four am. Two more hours. <em>I can live with that</em>, she thought closing her eyes and falling back against the pillow as she sighed softly. It had gotten to the point, where Clarke's nightly routine accommodated the nightmares. If she got to bed early enough, she could sleep a little after being awoken and be in a better mood by morning time. </p><p>So when the alarm went off, and Clarke had not returned to sleep as she planned she was understandably quite annoyed. The eyes she had glimpsed after in her rear view mirror that night had followed her in and out of consciousness. Clarke's thoughts continued to linger on the green eyed stranger as she got ready for the day.</p><p>Determined not to let her futile curiosity get the best of her, Clarke threw herself into her morning activities. <em>The shop wouldn't open itself after all.</em><br/>The drive to her shop gave her the security of routine and the comfort of familiarity. It was an easy thing that she could do every day and acted as sort of a warm up. In the past she would have just used a an enchanted door to go where she needed. The doors allowed for it's user to choose the destination on the other side. Driving was a mundane and unnecessary task for anyone who had money enough to buy one and even a meager level of control over magic. </p><p>It was the first thing Clarke taught herself when she decided to stop using magic. </p><p>Octavia and Bellamy were both really supportive of her decision, if not confused. They helped her transition, taught her things she'd never had to learn before due to magic. It wasn't common for witches to live without their magic, being that magic literally emanated from them, which was in contrast to other types of people and her friends whom were human but could wield it as well. Raven had taken her decision the worst though, short of Abby Griffin herself. Her friend was firmly entrenched in the magic world...she'd fought her way into it as a Succubus who had an unusual aptitude for it. She didn't have magic in her blood the way witches did but she was able to wield it along with the essence of desire, an energy all people could create but only succubi and incubi had the ability to harness. Clarke realized she really must be missing Raven since she hadn't used any curse words while thinking about her, and hoped to see the girl at Murphy's.</p><p>By the time she sauntered into Murphy's Cafe (he had just opened the door), she was looking forward to catching up with Raven. She ordered Murphy's dragonfruit-mango black tea this time, not wanting to be too keyed up by the caffeine. She waited until the last dredges of her tea were cold to text Raven.</p><p>C: Reyes. missed you around the cafe. Hell still contained in Arkadia  Labs?</p><p>R: Ah shit, sry Clarke.</p><p>R:held up in the lab ln.</p><p>R:working on boom juice.</p><p>C: Boom juice????</p><p>R: Classified.</p><p>R: But it's got a lil special sauce in it so I have to be here for the work</p><p>C: Oki. Well, lmk when ur back in town? Weird not seeing you around. Even Murph asked after you</p><p><br/>R: Really??</p><p><br/>C: Nah lmao</p><p><br/>R: fu griffin lol. Maybe we can tlk 2morrow if u seal up</p><p>Clark bit her lip, considering the possibility. If she was going to live without magic, she probably should be avoiding it's use at all costs. It was one thing to refuse magic entirely, but another to use it for personal gain and refusing to help others with it.... How would she justify that? Though, without using magic to communicate with Raven, it would be a lot harder to keep in touch if she wasn't in town.</p><p>C: I'll think about it.</p><p>Just as she finished with her morning debrief on the world, Clarke found herself in a rush all over again.  Having gotten lost in an article that suggested a crack theory about magic inepts becoming fae could have scientific basis, she was now 5 minutes late.</p><p>Again.</p><p>Clarke launched herself from the lounge chair, quickly placing her cup on the counter.<br/>"Sorry, gotta run, BYE!" <br/>She didn't hear Murphy hiding his laugh as he made a pour over for the customer in front of him.</p><p>With a burst of energy, she rushed out of the doors, bag of sketches in tow. The silhouette of someone waiting outside her door made her groan internally. <em>Of course, I'm late for my first real customer. For fuck's sake.</em><br/>Clarke rushed over to the patron at her door, ready with an apology.<br/>"I am so sorry to keep you waiting. I got held up at the cafe- Oh." Clarke breathlessly commented, finally seeing the person who had been waiting for her.</p><p>It was the stranger from yesterday. Here. At the door to her shop. Waiting for her.<br/><em>I think I'm dying.</em><br/>Remembering herself, she unlocked the doors, and held them open for her new... customer.</p><p><br/>"Please come in!" the words came out as a squeak, and she groaned internally again. "Uh, I'll be right with you. I just need to set this down..." she said and  hurried to put down her things in the workshop, before taking her place behind the glass counter. <br/>The woman, who hadn't said anything at all, looked around the room speculatively. Clarke could not tell what she was thinking, and that made her palms sweat.</p><p><br/>"This is a very interesting shop." The woman said finally meeting Clarke's blue eyes with her own green ones. "Do you sell candles?"</p><p><br/>Clarke blinked slowly, but nodded, pointing her to the batch of candles in the corner. "I wish I could say I made them all myself, but my art success has been very 2D so far. Most of those are from a very sweet artisan shope in Arkadia, but a few of them are my own work."</p><p><br/>Her green eyed stranger wasted no time in inspecting the candles. It gave Clarke time to wonder why the woman had showed up here. They hadn't talked in the cafe, and they'd barely even acknowledged each other before now. Not to mention she hadn't been at the cafe this morning. Clarke had finally forgotten all about her and then boom, here she was. Here, in her space, her fortress of solitude.</p><p><br/>"What scent is this one?" The woman inquired, approaching the counter with several candles in hand. The one she held out to Clarke was unmarked, and a neutral lavender color. Clarke didn't recognize it. "Huh? I don't-" she grasped the candle, tilting it as she leaned down to smell it. With her eyes closed, she felt the zing of an energy that was easy to recognize. She knew where the candle originated, and she immediately turned four shades redder.</p><p>
  <br/>
  <em>Fucking Reyes I'm going to absolutely murder you when I see you again.</em>
</p><p><br/>The candles was definitely laced very gently with magic. The kind only someone like Raven could use. Clarke knew the tell tale feeling, and it was in the way the candle was a little <strong>too attractive</strong>. A vein on Clarke's forehead began to twitch with her irritation.</p><p><br/>"I'm sorry...this shouldn't be here. It was made by a friend." She said finally looking up into the eyes of the woman in front of her. If she wasn't trying to dig herself out of the hole Raven dug, she might have noticed the slight blush on her visitor's face. Clarke grasped the candle, tugging it gently from the woman's grasp apologetically.</p><p><br/>"Oh...It smells lovely. Are you sure I can't purchase it? I wouldn't mind paying more for it than the others."</p><p><br/>Clarke took a deep, steadying breathe. "No, I'm so sorry. Trust me. You really don't want this one." <em>Raven, you are DEAD. I'm going to kill you, and then revive you, so I can kill you again for this.</em></p><p><br/>"Is there something wrong with it?  Is it of sentimental worth? Because your friend made it?" she woman pressed on inquisitively. Unconsciously, she leaned across the toward the candle. Her pupils were slightly more dilated, becoming slightly obscured by her eyelids as they sunk down to a half lidded position. She knew this was Raven's doing and wanted to beat her friend's ass even more.</p><p>"It was made by my friend the succubus." Clarke blurted out unceremoniously. "It should not have been in the shop..."</p><p>A silence stretched between them as recognition flitted across the woman's face. This person was well acquainted with magic, then. Most magic inepts reacted to magic the way some that people react to the mention of hard drugs. Something along the lines of 'omg really?' or 'what?!'. But this person did neither. </p><p>She looked between the candle and Clarke a few times before taking a short breath and saying "That does explain the mystery scent..." </p><p>The breathe Clarke had been holding in whooshed out of her all at once. "Haha, yeah. If you've not been around EOD before, it can be hard to spot the influence."</p><p><br/>"That was done with precision. I've been around succubi before, but your friend must be very skilled. The way the magic intermingles with the scent is nearly imperceptible..." Green eyes assessed the candle before coming back to settle on Clarke once again."You must be very well versed in charms to have noticed."</p><p><br/>Clarke shook her head slowly "No, not at all." she replied quickly. Warning bells began to chime off in her head. Time to change the subject. "This place is to sell art. Mundane art, not magical items."</p><p><br/>The woman nodded, slowly arranging the other candles she had picked up in her arms, and placing them on the counter. "I didn't know that witches were interested in mundane art." </p><p><br/>Clarke wasn't surprised her visitor had put that one together. There were only so many things one could be while looking human and without using glamour, plus her new customer had a very keen eye."Yeah well, I'm on vacation from being a witch right now." Clarke counted the candles out loud for the woman. "That'll be $15.00 even. Did you want a bag?"</p><p><br/>"Yes, thank you."</p><p>Clarke took the card offered to her, but to her disappointment, there was no name on it.  It was solid black metal with a chip, and no identifying characteristics on the card. She didn't take the moment to ponder that, opting to finish ringing up her first customer.</p><p><br/>"Thank you for buying." Clarke said, returning the card to the green eyed woman. "You're actually my first real customer, since I opened up." She didn't know why she was saying all this but she continued "These came from Ad Astra in Arkadia. The shop owner will be happy to know, someone from around here appreciates candles too."</p><p><br/>"You're from Arkadia?"</p><p><br/>Clarke looked up from the candles she had bagged to discover yet another unreadable expression. Only the quirked eyebrow was evidence that a question was even asked. She found herself gazing into the unrelenting green gaze of the person before, and she spent too long trying to decipher what she saw there. She didn't bother masking her own confusion.</p><p>"Yes, of course. Witches are obligated to take classes for magic. I lived there during the time I was in school."</p><p><br/>"Sure. But not all witches go to Arkadia School of Magic." <em>Fuck.</em></p><p><br/>"But a lot of them do." There was an edge to her voice that said this particular topic was not up for discussion."I'm not special." she said gesturing to the shop, as if that were evidence of her plain-ness.</p><p><br/>"A lot of the special ones." The woman replied with a hard look.</p><p><br/>A silence passed between them, as if neither woman were willing to relinquish the topic or move the conversation.<br/>The tension broke when the pos software timed out and the receipt for the candles whirred out of the machine.</p><p><br/>"Okay." Clarke said after a steadying huff of air. "How about we start over, maybe? I'm Clarke Griffin, and this is my studio. I make art stuff. Mostly paintings, but I plan to explore other mediums." Clarke stuck out her hand to the stranger pointedly, as if the reset was not optional, with as friendly a grin as she could muster.</p><p><br/>Another pause passed over them, and the woman across the counter from her assessed her with half lidded scrutiny. Then finally, a hand extended out to meet hers.</p><p> <br/>"Alexandria Woods. It's good to make your acquaintance Ms.Griffin."</p><p>The blonde artists shivered in disgust, and laughed bitterly. "Clarke is fine. Ms.Griffin is my mother." She took the woman's hands, but was surprised by the rough texture and scars she found there. The woman before her had definitely used her hands for work, and they had taken quite the beating.</p><p>"Good to meet you too...Ms. Woods I presume." The corner of her green eyed stranger's lips turned up slightly, something Clarke determined would be the closest she'd get to a smile from Alexandria Woods.</p><p><br/>"I go by Lexa."</p><p><br/>"Lexa then." She said completing the firm handshake. Clarke gathered up the bag with gentle precision before handing it to Lexa. "Thank you again for your business." Lexa peeked into the bag, before sliding it onto her arm securely.</p><p> </p><p><br/>For a moment neither of them moved or said anything, but both looked as if they wanted to say something. </p><p> </p><p><br/>"I need to get back to the workshop." Clarke finally said gesturing behind her.</p><p> <br/>"Yes." Lexa nodded shifting the weight of the candles to her other arm. "I'll see you then...Clarke." The way Lexa pronounced her name, popping the C and K...Clarke liked it better when Lexa said it.</p><p>Just before the door closed, Clarke called out "Lexa!" The green eyes woman looked up, long brunette tresses thrown behind her by an errant breeze. "Will I see you at Murphy's? Y'know...in the mornings?"</p><p>Lexa grinned again then, and dipped her head slightly in confirmation."I'd like that." Clarke matched the girls expression with a smile of her own and waved as Lexa passed by the glass storefront for the shop.</p><p><br/>"Me too." she said, once she'd lost line of sight on Lexa. In a flash, Clarke sped her way (almost running) to her sketchbook, clawing at her charcoals, and scrambling to the page of the sketch she had done previously. With a few swipes of correction and a even fewer gentle gesture, Clarke finally got Lexa's soft smile just right. She didn't even realize she was beaming down at it, until much later when she began to work on another piece of art (an ache sprouting in her cheeks from smiling too hard for too long).</p><p><br/>That night when Clarke's nightmare woke her up, she sighed. Looked at her clock with blurry eyes, and went right back to sleep.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
          <p>Shout out to my mom and aunt, it's their birthdays ^^</p>
        </blockquote></div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Routine</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Raven Reyes?!?</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I had so much trouble rounding off this chapter. I want to be true to the characters but I want more for them too. ~sigh<br/>Thanks for sticking around!</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>The next day, when Lexa joined her at Murphy's the silence that hung between them wasn't as imposing as it felt in her shop. Now, Clarke could appreciate the sweet aroma of caffeine and the shafts of light dancing across the cafe. She didn't need to look up from her tablet (Clarke put an alarm on it to save her from being late yet again) to recognize the sound of Lexa gently easing into the cushion of the red leather chair across from her. "Hey." she said softly, genuinely happy to know the woman across from her had kept her promise.</p><p>"Hi," Lexa's response was a few decibels past a whisper, to Clarke's own surprise.</p><p>Lexa sounded different...Her voice lacked the commanding edge it had openly held yesterday. In it's place was this approving and light vocal tone that sounded as if she too had warmed to the idea of Clarke existing in the same space. Clarke, whom had been reading from her tablet one-handed, placed down her empty mug on the table. The soft clatter of porcelain against the knurled hardwood of the coffee table didn't disturb the peace of the shop as it could have on a quiet day. It seemed that even the room was alive with the sunny mood of the day.</p><p>When Clarke's blue eyes finally met Lexa, the girl's green one's were waiting for her, searching her face to the answer to a question Clarke could not decipher. They regarded one another for a moment, neither of them daring to move. It was Clarke, straightening back into her lounging position, legs loosely crossed with one hand cradling her tablet that seemed cool and collected. The dynamic from yesterday had shifted considerably.</p><p>Yesterday's Lexa was a rigid and quiet and her body language was stiff and un-moving. Even her posture had changed. Her hands were not gripping her coffee as firmly, and her jaw was not rigidly taut as if fighting the tides of the world around her. This Lexa was curious. Languid even. Her posture was unassuming and sanguine, shoulders rolled down in a relaxed manner. As if she had not had her foot on the pulse of the world only a few days ago. </p><p><br/>Clarke had to blink a few times to be sure she was seeing the same person.</p><p>"Hey did so-" the soft chimes of Clarke's alarm interrupted her question.</p><p>Whatever had changed would have to wait for her to open up. She glanced over at Lexa, studying her face once more, as if to memorize it. Clarke watched as the the shining leafy green orbs of the woman across from her flickered with rays of passing sunshine.</p><p><br/>"I've got to get going..." Clarke said sheepishly, tucking a strand of wavy blonde hair behind her ear. The motion blocked her view of Lexa's eyes following her hand and the approving look that settled there after. But when Clarke got up to open the shop, Lexa stood as well. They packed their things together and returned their mugs, again without saying much. Holding the door for the two of them, Clarke made a show of gesturing out of the cafe while deep in a stiff bow. "The world awaits us, Lexa," Clarke chuckled. Lexa chuckled airily, bemused that the words held much more meaning for her than her new companion could imagine.</p><p>"Clarke," the words slipped from Lexa's lips before she could catch control of them. "I'd like to visit your shop again today."</p><p><br/>"Oh really? I guess we can go together then" Clarke said warmly, straightening from her play bow.</p><p>Clarke re-tucked a few strands of wavy blonde hair that swung into her vision  again. Letting the door shut  behind them, Clarke and Lexa began to make their way to the shop door. The silence between them that had been pleasant was pregnant with Clarke's newly peaked curiosity. <em>Why would she want to hang out in the shop, again?</em> she pondered. <em>I shouldn't spend the whole walk questioning her motives in my head. This is an opportunity to learn about her.</em></p><p>"So....." Clarke started, "you're new to the Wellsington area, right? Small town, so it's hard not to notice when someone moves in." </p><p> " I've not moved in. I'm just visiting." Lexa responded.</p><p>Clarke followed Lexa's gaze as it surveyed the path of the sidewalk, then the area around them quickly. The green eye'd girl was extremely observant. Clarke knew this area backwards and forwards, since she'd basically half grown up here. Nearly every major business in the area was owned by the Jaha family. Clarke and Wells had been given free reign of the space many times in their youth and they continued to spend their breaks from Arkadia in the small town. Naturally, after Clarke met the delinquents and her friends began to build a future for themselves, this place was her number one suggestion. Even though many types of people inhabited the town, they were all mildy affiliated with the Jahas. Something about Lexa made her think she wasn't  working with Wells or his father, though. Call it witch's intuiton.<br/> <br/>An explanation did not come for Clarke.</p><p>"Did you come to Wellsington on vacation or something? I thought the delinquents were the only people who'd holiday in a town like this." she offered after a few moments.</p><p>Lexa smiled in her way, corners of the mouth only turning up slightly, the barest twinkle of amusement in her eye when she glanced at Clarke.</p><p>"Yes, you could say that."</p><p>A blush crept up Clarke's neck. "Well, Ms.Woods, what are you doing for fun on your vacation?"</p><p>"This is the fun part, Clarke." </p><p>"This," Clarke gestured to their walk approaching the storefront, finally "this is the fun part?"</p><p>"Yes." Lexa said without offering more. Clarke watched Lexa's features under the guise of fishing through her purse for the store's keys. Lexa's jawline could cut diamond, but there was a gentle sloping to her features that lent her a softer, and gentler aesthetic. Especially today, when Lexa was wearing earthy green tones that complimented her eyes and contrasted against gold tones in her skin. Lexa's face seemed so open and in contrast to yesterday, when the woman had a more commanding presence.</p><p>Clarke turned to the door with keys in hand, jangling obnoxiously when she used them to unlock the shop doors. "I think someone needs to teach you what fun actually looks like." She gave Lexa a look of mock mortification and clutched at some imaginary pearls. "If this is your definition of fun, I hate to think of what you do when you're bored. What about hobbies?"</p><p>"I enjoy strategy games like chess and ma'jong."</p><p>"Please... tell me you're joking right now. You play chess in your free time? Not as a community service activity with the elderly?"</p><p>"Why would I joke about Chess?" Clarke laughed openly as she led Lexa into the quiet space (still woefully confused about the "joke") of her shop. </p><p>The shopfront was small, maybe 100 square feet total. It was a modest modern set up with navy blue rope carpet and white shelves lining all the open white wall space. On the shelves were a small myriad of artisan items, some art supplies and other materials. For all it was worth, the sales floor space was really an excuse for Clarke to have the workshop smack in the middle of town. Behind the  empty glass counter where the register sat, you could easily view a snippet of the concrete floor studio in the back. A myriad of blank canvases, stands, white drapes and other fixtures that seemed to hold art supplies were stationed around in the open floor space.</p><p>"I think you need to get out more Lexa." Clarke advised while abandoned her keys and bags on the glass counter(loudly). She swung around the counter to grab her sketchbook and hit the lights of the workshop in the back of the store. They hummed with electricity until they sparked into bright bars of light, igniting Clarke's workspace.<br/> <br/>"My sister said the same thing," Lexa said wryly, although her focus was on Clarke. She watched as Clarke pulled a couple of stools from the area in the back, and ferried them over to the glass counter-top that was the only station in the storefront area. After arranging the stools at the end of the counter, she pulled out the art supplies she had tucked under her arm and placed them next to her sketchbook.</p><p>Huffing from the exertion, Clarke slumped onto the stool and scooted into the counter. "Ooh, you have siblings? I was an only child."</p><p><br/>"Yes, although perhaps not in the same sense as you might imagine. We grew up together." Lexa neatly perched on the stool across the counter from Clarke, watching as she opened various pots of pigments and arranged them around the sheet of paper she had snatched from her sketchbook. </p><p><br/>"My art professor would be apalled." she muttered picking at the torn edges, and stopping herself with a reminder that she shouldn't talk to herself like a crazy person in front of guests. "Well your sister sounds wise, since she's giving you sound advice."</p><p>"There are many words I'd use to describe Anya, but wise is not on that list." Lexa laughed openly at the thought. "But she is courageous, cunning, and quick witted. She reacts with the resolve of someone who had planned that same action for years, and she taught me a lot when I first started training."<br/>Clarke, now lighlty laying soft lines of pastel pigments over the delicate sketch nodded to show she was listening. "Sounds like you admire her a lot."</p><p>"I do." Lexa whispered almost to herself. Her quiet response made Clarke look up from her work. Lexa was staring out of the shop's window, looking distracted by the thought of her sister.</p><p><br/>"She sounds like a friend I have. Her na-"</p><p><br/>"Clarke there's someone approaching the shop." Lexa said sharply, interrupting her.</p><p><br/>"Oh." Clarke said. She stood up peeking over the counter and out of the front windows to see the newcomer. Clarke instantly recognized her other routine pain in the ass. Raven fucking Reyes.</p><p><br/>She wore a all black: washed out black jeans, black muscle tank, exposing her coffee-tan skin, a. A long neat braid flowed behind her in the breeze. Trademark black shades and and equally troublesome grin adorned her face- you didn't have to know her to know she was trouble in a curvy bottle.</p><p><br/>"Holy fucking shit." she breathed. Clarke stumbled off the stool, threw open the door and yelled. "Reyes!" The cocky grin smile on Raven's face deepened into a toothy one.</p><p>"Griffin. What's shakin'?"</p><p><br/>"They let you out???" Clarke said, grabbing her friends arm and pulling her in for a one handed hug. </p><p><br/>"Clarke, no one keeps Raven Reyes prisoner. Not even your mom."</p><p><br/>For a small moment, they embraced each other at the store front. It had nearly two months since she last saw the girl, but that didn't stop the memory of the laced candle from resurfacing. </p><p><br/>So Raven, who had forgotten all about it, didn't react quick enough to stop Clarke from what would happen next.<br/>Clarke slipped her elbow around the girls, interlocked her fingers and swept Reyes' leg out from under her. Headlock secured.<br/>"You piece of shit, I can't believe you left a spiked candle in my goddamn shop!" Clarke seethed nearly spitting. "Do you know how fucking bad that could have gone???"</p><p><br/>"Ha. Did I do that?" Raven said, wriggling showing no signs of duress what-so-ever. It was always like this. Raven's body was just way more tough than the average person. It was one of the reasons that made her extraordinary. This was not her and Clarke's first tussle and it would not be the last. The two had been friendly before Raven began assisting Abby Griffin's research, but they really got close in their 'Projections and Other Magical Defenses' class they took in Clarke's Lamda year. Raven and Clarke had been getting on each other's nerves ever since. Their friendship made Wells sweat since one of them always seemed to be inches from killing the other.</p><p><br/>"I hope your next meal is SALTY." Clarke ground out.  Being thoroughly caught, all Raven could do was laugh as she tapped the girls arm in defeat.</p><p><br/>"Alright alright. You caught me by surprise this time. Damn, Clarke. I thought witches got weaker from not using magic. I don't remember your elbow lock being that good before."</p><p><br/>Clarke huffed with the exertion but was happy for the acknowledgement anyway. "I've been training with Octavia on the weekends. But don't think you're off the hook, Reyes. " The girl shot back, winding her arm slowly to ease the tension in her shoulder muscles. "Anyway, lets go inside so you can see the person you almost hexed, asshole," she said opening the door for the two of them.</p><p><br/>"Hex? That's all you witchling," Raven snickered back.</p><p><br/>The cool air conditioning was a pleasant change of the heat from the midday sun, and from Clarke's tussle with Raven. <br/>"Ah." She sighed in cool bliss. Lexa sat on the stool still composed as ever, legs primly crossed. A picture of poise, really.</p><p><br/>The need to somehow get this image onto paper itched in her fingers, and she rubbed her hands against her pants to be rid of the sensation. </p><p>"Uh. Lexa, this is Raven Reyes. The criminal." Clarke gestured rather vaguely behind her while approaching the counter, laughing when Raven yelled</p><p>"Hey! It isn't a crime if you don't get caught." Raven objected behind her.</p><p><br/>"Raven, this is Ms.Woods." she said, trying to prevent the vain in her forehead from jumping.</p><p><br/>"Oh. This must be your succubus friend?" Lexa inquired, suddenly.</p><p>"Ah, so I am famous!" Raven smirked from behind Clarke, with her hands on her hips.</p><p><br/>"More like infamous. How many succubi could I really know? I can barely stand you, can't imagine more than one." Clarke rolled her eyes, as she head back into the workshop in search of another seat. </p><p><br/>"I apologize for the mishap." Raven offered her hand with a shrug. "People are usually asking me to spice things up, so it's a change of pace to hold it back." Raven looked Lexa up and down before continuing. "And you're human, right? Another Ex-Arcadian?"</p><p><br/>"No, not at all."</p><p><br/>"Oh, now that's interesting." Raven's face lit up like she'd found buried treasure. "From the outside? Not too many humans living out there anymore."</p><p><br/>Lexa nodded without smiling. "There are people outside of Arkadia's death grip, yes."</p><p><br/>"Anti-establishment chick, huh? That's hot."</p><p><br/>"I prefer a system that doesn't enslave people based on their gifts." Lexa replied with an edge in her voice that made the sharp like a knife.</p><p><br/>"That's a lot of judgement for someone who's never been."</p><p><br/>"I've heard enough to make my opinion."</p><p><br/>"Is that so?" Raven leveled her gaze, a firm eye contact that is usually to be avoided when wearing glamour since the eyes were  the hardest part to conceal. If Raven ever tried to hide her golden eyes it would not be wise to glare the way she did at Lexa. But the sight of her infernal gaze which flickered with orange flecks and slit pupils didn't seem to stir fear into the Lexa like it did the humans at Arkadia. Even those who were familiar with all variety of supernaturals tended to be uneasy around species who could prey upon humans. Vampires, Succubi &amp; Incubi, Shifters with carnivorous forms... Any super with "inhuman" abilities were watched very closely and of course, obligated to study within Arkadia's walls. </p><p><br/>"I don't suppose you know a settlement of my kind among your people then?" Raven pressed.</p><p><br/>Lexa said nothing for a moment, clenching her jaw. "There have been no internals among my people for several generations."</p><p><br/>"Yes, I wonder why that might be." The tension from her voice was palpable, but when Clarke re-entered the room, the intensity was lost between the women. Clarke was bent over, putting all her force into dragging the heavy metal office chair.</p><p><br/>"This is my office chair, Raven. I drug it from the depths for your enjoyment."</p><p><br/>Muffled laughter broke Clarke's concentration and she turned around to see Reyes propping herself on counter. Her friend nearly doubled over in laughter.</p><p><br/>"Uh Clarke." Lexa said with a twinkle of amusement. "It has wheels...you just didn't unlock them."</p><p><br/>"....oh." Clarke huffed, a vein twitching in her forehead. "What the hell. Just sit down Reyes." She said exasperated.</p><p>Clarke seated herself and resumed working the pan pastels over her sketch. First broadly lying in soft colors and then focusing on with strong colors for the details. As always, she was so consumed in her work she completely tuned out her guests.</p><p>"I don't know why I visit, when you just ignore me for art anyway." The dark haired girl slung her long braid over her shoulder as she relaxed into the seat fully. "I guess you're doing alright out here little witch."</p><p>"Why wouldn't she be doing alright? Clarke seems very capable."</p><p>"Because you know her so well? But anyway, you're right. She is more than just capable."</p><p>"I assume that you and Clarke are very close, then."</p><p>"I work very closely with her Clarke's mother, so we saw each often. I'm just used to seeing her around is all." Raven said flipping her braid off offhandedly.</p><p>"Oh my god." Clarke said, suddenly looking up from her sketch. "When was the last time you saw Octavia and Bellamy?"</p><p>"Shit, yeah it's been awhile hasn't it? I'm never in Wellsington for long." Raven contemplated for a little too long.</p><p>"Shame. She probably just left for the day too. And no, we're not going to visit unannounced again. I saw more than I ever wanted to last time" Clark said shivering visibly at the memory.</p><p>"PFFFFT, HA! I almost forgot."</p><p>"So it's set then, you, me and Lexa will go to Blake'd goods tomorrow. She'll be so surprised!" </p><p>"..."</p><p>"Tomorrow??"</p><p>The two women looked at her, eyes low in accusatory squints "Yep! Gotta get in quick before they send the hounds after Raven. Now shhh, I want to get these whiskers just right"</p><p>The two looked from the artist to each other. Raven, shrugged slouching even further into the chair and closing her eyes- the ultimate level of nonchalance.</p><p>"The princess has a plan, no point in fighting it," she laughed "it'll happen whether we like it or not."</p><p> </p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I'm kind of a lore whore [re: someone who lives for the mythos and storybuilding in fiction] but I'll try to stay focused on the money with this one.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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